Lillian recognized the quote from First Corinthians and felt her throat tighten.
Tiffany continued, “You are a precious child of God, Lillian Rodgers. Called to be His. Created in His image. Made for this time, here and now, on purpose, for His good pleasure. His blood is precious, Lilly, and He used it to purchase your redemption. No matter what anyone chooses to think or say or believe, that is the truth of who you are.”
Lillian licked her lips and tasted the salt of her unrestrained tears. She sniffed, feeling the brunt of an ugly cry creep up on her. She used her hands to push herself up and squeezed Tiffany around her shoulders.
“Oh, my friend, thank you. I needed that.” She pulled away and wiped under her eyes. “It’s like everything I’d finally accepted about how God sees me left when Chuck and I…”
“Had your little make-out sesh?”
“Yeah. That.”
“I’ll just keep on reminding you, then,” Tiffany said, hugging her again. Tiffany pulled back to look her in the eyes. “You have to know that Chuck doesn’t think that of you, either. But, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that you belong to God. Jesus left your sin on that cross; don’t go searching for the shame He took on for you. It’s gone. You hear me?”
Lillian’s vision blurred all over again. She could only nod. Tiffany hugged her again. After a moment, Lillian felt pools of sweat forming everywhere their bare skin met.
“Hey, Tiffany?”
“Yeah?”
“It’s hot.”
Tiffany laughed. “Yes, it is. Hey, Lillian?”
“Yeah?”
“We stink.”
They pulled apart and dissolved into clumsy laughter. Tiffany stood first, toeing into her flip flops and reaching for her water bottle. Lillian followed suit, pulling in a breath and exhaling loudly.
“Seriously, thank you.”
“You better believe I’ll be reminding you, girl.”
“Deal.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
Turned out that breaking up and clearing out the concrete patio the week before had been much better for aggression than building the deck that replaced it. Todd was meticulous and exact. He stopped numerous times to measure, realign, and strategize. Eventually, he and Chuck found a rhythm and were able to finish the deck by late afternoon.
Chuck’s mom came out to admire it, appropriately gushing over the railing and stairs that Chuck had put together. She gave Todd a kiss on his sweaty cheek and slipped an arm around his middle.
“Now it just needs the patio table and chairs I have waiting down at the furniture store,” she said, arching a brow at Chuck.
“Let me guess, you could use a ride to pick up said patio table?” Chuck asked, arching an identical brow back at his mother.
“My son is so smart.”
Chuck took a long pull on his ice water. So far, he’d been able to avoid being alone with his mother. He’d kept their texts the last few weeks light. Had been able to dodge questions about Lillian while lifting a sledgehammer above his head to crack down on the concrete last week. Had been too busy measuring, cutting, and leveling to engage in conversation today. But riding alone in the truck with her was a whole other ballgame. She must have sensed his hesitation.
“I’ve had a flank steak marinating for a few days, and I just set a cherry pie on the counter to cool.”
Chuck groaned and rolled his eyes toward Todd. His eyes twinkled; he knew Chuck was caught.
“She sure knows the way, doesn’t she, Todd?”
Sarah clapped her hands gleefully. “I’ll get my purse.”
When she didn’t go beyond small talk on the way to the store, Chuck thought he had lucked out. Once they loaded the table and chairs into the bed of his truck, his mom climbed back in the cab while Chuck tied everything down. Assured all was secure, he hopped into the truck, started the engine and drove back to her house. His mom was unnaturally quiet during the ride. He pulled into her driveway and cut the engine.
“Your dad loved this truck,” his mom’s voice was so soft he almost didn’t hear it. Chuck glanced at her, but her eyes were on the dash, running her hands lovingly across the curves. He sat patiently, waiting.
She finally looked up at him. “It was hard to let myself give in to Todd’s love at first.”
Chuck leaned back against the door, not entirely sure he wanted to hear about his mom and Todd’s love life. “Okay.”
She went on as if she hadn’t heard him. “At first I thought it was because I wasn’t ready. You know, to admit that your dad wasn’t coming back, and that I was free to move on. And some of it was that. But you know what really held me back?” She looked into his eyes. Chuck shook his head.
“It was hate.”
His brows came down low over his eyes. His mother? Hate? The woman that lost friends after her husband’s death because she was “too different,” and still she encouraged grace toward them? The woman that stood in a court room and offered forgiveness to the man that caused her husband’s death? The woman that poured herself into her family, her church, her friends, tirelessly and with more joy than anyone he knew? That woman? Hate?
“What are you talking about, Mom?”
“It wasn’t until I started dating Todd and talked with him about Dad’s accident that I fully recognized it. That I hated Tanner. I truly thought I’d done my duty by telling him that I forgave him at the sentencing. But as I shared my heart and began to open up with Todd, I realized that I harbored intense bitterness toward that young man. That I wished, deep in my heart of hearts, that God had brought about justice the way I’d wanted Him to, and that He had allowed Tanner to die that night instead of my Charlie,” her voice broke, eyes shimmering.
“Then one day, I realized that your dad would have gladly sacrificed his life for Tanner. That if Tanner wasn’t saved—and I don’t believe he was—he would have gone to hell. How could I wish that on him? Charlie is with the Lord. I miss him so much, Honey, and I know you do, too. But he’s home where we all long to be. Living in paradise. And there I was, holding that hatred in my heart because he wasn’t here. I started to see how it was affecting everything—my quiet time with the Lord, my relationships; my chance at another love. Once I saw it, it was like I could finally wrap my hands around the root of that bitterness and pull it out clean.”
She was describing his life. “How?” Chuck’s voice cracked. He cleared it. “How, Mom? Because I’ve tried. I thought I did, but…” How could she understand? He hadn’t told her of the connection between Lillian and Tanner. What would she say to that? There was only one way to find out.
“Mom, Tanner is Lillian’s step-brother.”
She stared blankly at him for the span of a minute, then squeezed her eyes shut.
Todd appeared from the side gate and waved. He strode down the driveway to the back of the truck. Chuck realized then he could smell the tantalizing, smoky aroma of meat on the grill.
His mom opened her eyes and patted his arm. “Come on, Son. We’ll all talk about it together.”
Once they unloaded the patio table and set dinner out, Todd prayed over the meal. Chuck dished out potato salad once the prayer was over and passed it to his mom on one side, accepting the plate of steak from Todd on the other.
“So, Tanner and Lillian are related,” his mom told Todd.
Todd whistled low. Chuck nodded grimly. At their urging, he told them everything about that night. The BBQ. The perfect evening with Lillian’s family. The fun he’d had watching her in that environment. The arrival of Tanner. The way he’d left things with Lillian—leaving out the steamy details. The confrontation with Tanner. Tanner’s rejection of his forgiveness. The coffee surprise…and the man in Lillian’s apartment. He was quick to tell them the story behind that. And how Lillian had broken things off, afraid that they wouldn’t be able to make it work.
By the time he was finished, Todd and his mom had pushed their empty plates away. Chuck looked down at his dinner, cold and un
touched.
“So, back to my question from earlier, Mom. How? How did you forgive Tanner? I mean truly forgive him? Because it’s going to take a miracle for me to.”
She glanced at Todd. “Well, Sweetie, you and I both know it’s an obedience issue and a sin issue if we don’t obey. How can we accept Christ’s forgiveness if we don’t forgive? That doesn’t mean the doing of it is easy or automatic. I knew that if I didn’t find a way, not only would I be living in sin, I’d be paralyzed at the sight of the accident for the rest of my life. And I didn’t want to be frozen there. Knew that Charlie wouldn’t want me there, either.”
She reached out a hand, palm up on the table. Todd settled his hand over it, features melting with affection. “And this man prayed for me a lot at that time. He understood. He encouraged. And I knew that without that act of obedience, Todd and I couldn’t be all that God intended for us.”
“Chuck,” Todd’s deep voice broke in, “this is a very unique situation. And my experience with very unique situations, is that they have the fingerprints of God all over them. Why don’t we pray, starting right now, that you would see this as a divine appointment rather than a disruption of your relationship? That you would rely on His ability to bring about the changes that need to take place in your heart?”
Chuck sucked in a breath. Checked his heart. Yeah, still dark and wooden where Tanner was concerned. Complete mush when it came to Lillian. Bruised and battered. But full of hope that with the Lord’s help, he could someday work toward true forgiveness.
“I wish Dad were here to talk to,” he murmured. He glanced at Todd and shrugged. Todd clapped him on the shoulder. It wasn’t the first time Chuck had said such a thing in Todd’s presence. His step-father graciously understood.
His mom spoke up, “Well, Sweetie, the best part of him was how he longed to reflect the light of Jesus. Seek the Lord. Take out Dad’s Bible and read his notes. He’ll be with you in the legacy he left.”
***
Lillian was supposed to be running. She’d dressed and laced up her shoes and…plopped herself onto the couch. Thirty minutes later, she was still there, messing around on her phone. She scrolled through Instagram, laughing at the pictures the teens from church shared. Man, she missed them.
Pinterest caught her attention next. Tiffany was assigned to two days of meals during their week-long camp-out and had no idea what to make. Soon Lillian had a board filled with, not only camp fire recipes, but camping hacks and ideas. She forwarded them to Tiffany, but continued to scroll through camping pins. As she filled the space with dreamy Dutch oven cobbler recipes, she thought she should set up a trip with her mom. They used to go camping often when she was a kid, and Lillian found herself craving mountain air, pine trees, and campfire s’mores.
Next, she scrolled Facebook, still not inspired to go running. A prayer request on the church’s community page caught her eye, and she sat up straight.
Prayers please for Lance Tipton. He’s been sick for a few days, and when Susan and her daughter came home from grocery shopping, they found him on the kitchen floor conscious, but unable to move. He’s diabetic and his sugar levels are through the roof. It’s not looking good.
Tipton. Wasn’t that Katrina’s last name? Lillian set down the phone and headed for the kitchen, not bothering to change. She gathered pantry items into a canvas bag, then stuffed a small cooler with water bottles, cheese sticks, baby carrots, and apples and set it all by the door. She located her keys, then purse, and loaded everything into her arms. She was locking the door to her apartment when Chuck emerged from his, face drawn in concern. He locked his door as well, and Lillian fell into step beside him.
“Is Lance Tipton Katrina’s dad?” she blurted out.
“Yes.” He eyed the small cooler and sack. “Are you headed out for a picnic or something?”
“Are you going to the hospital?”
He blinked. “Yeah…”
“Do you mind if I follow you?”
His stormy eyes sparked. “Why don’t you just ride with me?”
She hesitated for a heartbeat. “As long as you don’t mind.”
He reached out and took the cooler from her. “Of course, I don’t mind.” His eyes softened on hers, swept down her frame. “You look nice. Did you just get back from a jog?”
She blushed. “Thank you. No, I was avoiding my run when I saw the Facebook post.” She checked out his green camo shorts, black t-shirt, and ever-present-completely-mush-inducing baseball hat. You look nice, too, Chuck, she thought. Darn it.
They walked the rest of the way to his truck in silence. He opened the passenger door for her and set the cooler at her feet. When he’d started the truck, he glanced at her bag again.
“So, what’s with the bag and the cooler?”
She shrugged, nervously fidgeting with the strap of the seatbelt. “When I was in high school my mom was admitted to the hospital with a serious case of pneumonia. She had to stay for five days. I was there a lot, and just when I was getting tired of vending machines and cafeteria food, one of my aunts brought me some fresh produce and cheese in a cooler. It was just what I needed to have enough energy to absorb everything going on around me. It’s probably stupid to bring it all to Katrina and her mom, but I did it on impulse.”
Chuck slowed the truck for a red light and looked over at her. His eyes flashed and softened. “I think they’ll really appreciate it, Lillian.”
She bit her lower lip and looked out the window. When they arrived at the hospital, a small group from their church had gathered in the waiting room in the ICU.
Katrina sat by herself, back stiff, staring blankly at the wall across from her. Susan stood to hug Chuck and shake her hand. The woman was much older than Lillian imagined Katrina’s mother would be.
“How is he, Mrs. Tipton?” Chuck asked.
“Well, they’re running tests now. At first, they thought it was his diabetes—it’s really hard to keep blood sugar balanced when you’re sick. And Lance has been sick for a few weeks. But the doctors are looking at his heart now. Sounds like we could be here for a while.”
Lillian looked back at Katrina, thought of the many times Katrina had made her feel unwelcome. Wondered if she would be welcome now. She took a deep breath and made her way to the chair next to her.
“Hi there,” Lillian said as she lowered herself down.
“Hi,” Katrina answered, barely glancing up.
“I’m sorry about your dad.”
Katrina turned toward her, eyes glassy. “He was sweating when we found him. Our air conditioning has been on the fritz. One of us should have stayed…I need to call my…” she glanced around blankly. “I think I left my phone in the car.”
“I’ll go get it. Where are your keys?” Chuck’s deep voice spoke from behind Lillian, startling her.
Katrina thanked him and told him where to find her car while she handed him her keys. Chuck pointed at Lillian. “You okay here?” he mouthed when Katrina wasn’t looking.
She nodded, and he stepped away and spoke briefly with Susan, then Pastor Ryan before he headed for the doors, glancing at Lillian once more. She wished she could read the look on his face.
Lillian turned back to Katrina, but didn’t know what to say. She reached out and squeezed her hand, surprised when Katrina held on for dear life. They sat that way for a long time. Quietly. Side by side. Women that didn’t really know each other, but for whatever reason were just the right match at that time.
Chuck returned with Katrina’s phone and sat next to Lillian. The doctor left and Susan came to sit on the other side of Katrina. No one spoke. The sun set and the windows grew black. Lillian heard Katrina’s stomach growl and remembered the food she’d brought.
“Here,” she said, pulling her hand free and opening the cooler. “You have to eat something. I have apples, cheese sticks, some yogurt. And then,” she opened the canvas bag, “I have crackers and granola bars.”
Katrina’s eyes moistened. She touch
ed her mom’s arm. Susan barely noticed, her face ashen, eyes on the doors. “What is taking them so long?”
“Mom, you need to eat something. Here, Lillian brought some food to snack on.”
Susan barely noticed when Katrina pushed a sleeve of crackers into her hands. But eventually she lifted one to her mouth and munched slowly. Katrina selected yogurt and a granola bar.
“Thank you, Lillian, you have no idea how much this helps.”
Lillian shrugged. Chuck squeezed her shoulder. A different doctor stepped into the room and scanned their faces. Katrina and Susan stood and walked over to him. They spoke for a few minutes just outside the doors before Susan hurried back into the room for her purse.
“He’s back in his room. He’s still pretty out of it, but they’re letting us see him,” she told the room as she scurried out. Pastor Ryan gestured for Chuck to join him in the hall, and Lillian found herself alone. She sat back in the chair and rested her elbow on the armrest and propped her head in her hand.
Chuck shook her awake sometime later. “You ready?” he asked.
Lillian straightened with a start. Her chin felt wet, and she wiped it with the back of her hand. Yup. Drool. Lovely. She stood and stretched, glancing around at the empty waiting room. She looked back at Chuck, reluctant. “I don’t want to leave Katrina by herself.”
Chuck’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “She left a few minutes ago. Pastor Ryan took her home. Her dad’s still unconscious, so we convinced Katrina and Susan to go home and rest.”
“Oh. Well, then, yes. I’m ready.”
She trudged behind him, mind fuzzy around the edges. Chuck grasped her elbow to lead her through the lobby and out to the parking lot. He helped her into the truck and jogged around the front. Lillian was yawning when he climbed in the cab.
“Sorry,” she said when she finished. “I don’t know why I’m so tired.”
“Possibly because you’re running yourself ragged? Literally. I mean Lilly, you run—what? An hour in the morning and then another at night? You need to slow down.”
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